But she was in the house of her nearest
relative,--of him and also of her who were bound to see that things
were right; and then there might be a more pleasureable existence
than that which would have to depend on a photograph for its keenest
delight. But how should she meet him? In what way should she address
him? Should she ignore the quarrel, or recognize it, or take some
milder course? She was half afraid of the Duchess, and could not ask
for assistance. And the Duchess, though good-natured, seemed to her
to be rough. There was nobody at Matching to whom she could say a
word;--so she lived on, and trembled, and doubted from hour to hour
whether the world would not come to an end.
The Duchess was rough, but she was very good-natured. She had
contrived that the two lovers should be brought into the same house,
and did not doubt at all but what they would be able to adjust their
own little differences when they met. Her experiences of the world
had certainly made her more alive to the material prospects than to
the delicate aroma of a love adventure.
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